hours.

She intended to steal the kyack of dried meat without which Ben and
herself could not live. She crept back farther into the underbrush; then
waited, scarcely breathing, while the fire died down. Already the three
men were preparing to go to their bunks. Chan had already lain down; her
father was removing his coat and boots. Ray, however, still sat in the
firelight.

The moments passed. Would he never rise and go? The fire, however, was
dying: its circle of ruddy light ever drew inward. The kyack was quite
in the shadow now, yet she dared not attempt its theft until the three
men were asleep. She waited, thrilling with excitement.

Chan and Neilson were seemingly asleep, and now Ray was knocking the
ashes from his pipe. He yawned, stretching wide his arms; then, as if
held by some intriguing thought, sat almost motionless, gazing into the
graying coals. Presently Beatrice heard him curse, softly, in the
shadows.

He got up, and removing his outer coat, rolled in his blankets. The
night hours began their mystic march across the face of the wilderness.

Now was the time to act. As far as she could tell, the three men were
deeply asleep: at least the likelihood would be as great as at any time
later in the night. The fire was a heap of gray ashes except for its
red-hot center: the kyack was in gloom. Very softly she crept through
the thickets, meanwhile encircling the dying fire, and came up behind
it.

Now it was almost in reach: now her hands were at its loops. She started
to lift it in her arms.

But disaster still dogged her trail. Ray Brent had been too wary of
attack, to-night, to sink easily into deep slumber. He heard the soft
movement as Beatrice lifted the heavy canvas bag off the ground; and
with a startled oath sprang to his feet.

He leaped like a panther. "Who's there?" he cried.

Sensing immediate discovery the girl placed all her hope in flight.
Perhaps yet she could lose her pursuers in the darkness. Still trying to
hold the kyack of food that meant life to Ben, she turned and darted
into the shadows.

Like a wolf Ray sped after her. The moonlight showed her fleeing figure
in the trees, and shouting aloud he sprang through the coverts to
intercept her flight. The chase was of short duration thereafter.
Emburdened by the heavy box she could not watch her step; and a
protruding root caught cruelly at her ankle. She was hurled with
stunning force to the ground.

Desperate and intent, but